Reliance
by Revhead
Summary: BJ notices just how much everyone at the 4077th relies on Hawkeye, and wonders how he handles it.


**Reliance**

"Does it ever get to you?" BJ asked.

Hawkeye raised his eyebrows over the rim of his martini glass. "What? The rats? The food? The dysentery? The endless drab green? The distant and not-so-distant shelling? The bloody assembly line? Frank Burns?"

BJ quickly interrupted before Hawkeye could build up to a lengthy rant. "None of the above."

"What then?"

"Well I've only been here a few weeks but I couldn't help but notice the way that the people around here look up to you."

Hawkeye shrugged. "I can't help it if I'm tall."

"That's not what I mean."

Hawkeye looked at him and there was something in his eyes that let BJ know he knew exactly what he was talking about, but then he shook his head and slouched back on his bunk, sloshing the gin in his glass. "No, no, people don't look up to me. They look _at_ me rather a lot – usually because I make an entertaining spectacle. Did I ever tell you I walked into the mess tent once stark naked on a dare?"

"Hawkeye."

"I'm just a guy who dresses goofy, makes bad jokes and occasionally does a decent job stitching kids back together in O.R."

"You're the glue that holds this outfit together."

"Radar keeps the place running, and Potter is the one in charge of the joint. I just work here."

"Hawkeye, if it weren't for you I think everyone in this camp would be bat-shit crazy."

"They are."

"Maybe," BJ conceded. "But they're high-functioning and I think that's thanks to you. No, really. When people are bored, you invent something fun to do. When people are tired, you give them an energy boost. When people are angry, you vent their frustration for them. When people are scared, they look to you for courage. When people are on the verge of breaking down, you make them laugh. When people need advice, you always know exactly what to say. When all of this becomes too much, you find a way to make the burden a little lighter. They rely on you here."

"You're exaggerating."

"No, I'm not. I'm speaking from experience. This place is Hell on Earth and if it wasn't for you I don't think I could make it through each day."

Hawkeye sat up to regard him more seriously. "You're tougher than you think. I've seen a lot of guys come through here, and I don't know what it is but I can tell which guys have it – whatever it is that a man needs to be in this place, to see what we see and do what we do and somehow manage to make it home with mind and heart intact. You got it, Beej. You're going to go home to your wife and kid and you're going to find a way to live a normal, happy life. I doubt the rest of us will be so lucky."

"What are you talking about? Of course you're going to make it home."

"Maybe." Hawkeye stared into the bottom of his empty glass, lost in thought.

"Hawkeye?"

"Can I let you in on a secret, Beej?"

"Of course."

Hawkeye nodded, but he wouldn't meet BJ's gaze. "I'm scared to go home."

BJ frowned, and almost asked if Hawkeye meant he was afraid he wouldn't make it back to the states in one piece. What he said hadn't made any sense.

"You make me sound like someone who's keeping it all together, but I'm barely hanging on. You asked if it gets to me, the way people rely on me or look up to me or whatever, but the truth is... I need it. I need them to need me. Because if they didn't, I'd have no one to be strong for. It would just be me, alone, trying desperately to hold back the flood while every shell, every wound, every baby-faced soldier and every pair of lifeless eyes worked double-time to bust holes in my dam. I'd drown in a matter of days, a week tops. I don't have what you've got, BJ. I don't have what it takes to make it out of here."

BJ wondered if he meant Peggy and Erin. "You've got a Dad waiting for you back home."

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I love him with everything I've got, but he doesn't need me. He doesn't expect me to be strong or invincible. I can let my guard down around him."

"That's a good thing."

"No. BJ, I know, I just know deep down in my gut that when I go home where it's safe and warm and comforting, where I won't hold the lives of young shot-up kids in my hands, where I won't have to put on a brave face all the time, where no one will be relying on me... It's all going to come crashing down. I'm going to shatter and break into a million pieces."

"I don't believe that. You're the strongest of all of us."

Hawkeye shook his head. His blue eyes were clouded with despair. "I just have good bedside manner. I know how to pull on a facade for my patients and how to put on a show for the people here because I know that's what they need from me. I took an oath to put the lives of others ahead of my own. Every time I feel myself break a little more inside I put in a couple of stitches and force myself to keep going because I don't want anyone else to suffer on my account. It's my job to be okay because it helps them to be okay, you know? Keep 'em healthy, keep 'em happy, bring them through to the other side. But when all of this is gone and I only have myself to worry about... It won't be enough. The stitches won't hold. I'm scared to go home, BJ. I'm afraid I'm going to fall apart and that nothing will ever be able to put Humpty together again."

"You'll be okay, Hawkeye. It might take a little time for you to adjust to civilian life again-"

"You don't get it. Hawkeye Pierce, that bright-eyed bushy-tailed young surgeon from Crabapple Cove who was full of life and laughter... He died on the operating table with that first kid they put in front of him. I'm not that guy anymore. I don't know how to pretend to be him when I get back home. I've seen too much, BJ. Blood and death and the endless number of ways that humans have invented to torture and mutilate and maim and murder each other. I've seen kids with third-degree burns covering 80% of their body who only lived long enough after the napalm attack to die in agony. I've seen soldiers with half their faces blown off. I've seen bone fragments and brain matter sprayed across the wall in post op when suicide was deemed a better option than being sent back up to the front for the third time. I've seen rape victims as young as 12-years old. I've seen land mines take a man's legs in an instant. I've looked into the eyes of men who were thirsty to return to the battlefield to spill more blood. I've seen halfie babies thrown from the backs of wagons and the mothers return to hooking the next day. I've seen children starve to death and grown men sob into their pillows. I've seen POWs return from the prison camps, haunted and hollow and emaciated and scarred, staring into nothing, never realizing that they were rescued because for them it was already too late. I've seen loved ones betray each other and families fall apart. I've seen innocent people die as I tried desperately to save them. I've seen more, and worse. Those images sear into my brain and even when I close my eyes they're still there. They'll never leave. I'll take them to my grave and I'll beg for an early one so I don't have to return to this hell hole every night in my dreams. I'm broken, BJ, and when I go home I won't be able to pretend otherwise. I'm scared. I want to go home more than anything in the world, but I'm scared to. Because I know that it will be the end of the line."

BJ swallowed. These were the words of a man who had been here for two years, saving lives and cracking jokes and making the war more bearable for everyone. He was the strongest person in this camp, and hearing his confession BJ was suddenly afraid.

"But if you're broken... Then what chance do the rest of us have?"

Hawkeye seized BJ's shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "You're going home to your wife and your kid. Your going to dance with Peg and kiss Erin's nose and make terrible dad jokes and you're going to be happy. I am going to make damn sure of it. I know I'm too far gone but I'll be damned if I lose one more person than I have to, to this damned war. You're going _home_."

He meant it. BJ could see that he meant it with every fibre of his being.

"Okay, Hawk."

"Promise me."

"I promise." Silently, BJ made another promise too. If Hawkeye was determined to pull every member of this camp through this ugly war single-handedly, BJ promised to be the one to hold Hawkeye together for as long as he was here. It would be his contribution to the 4077th.

And when Hawkeye finally made it back to Maine, BJ would tell him in no uncertain terms that there was still one person relying on him. If he wanted BJ to be happy, he would have to be okay. Because BJ couldn't make it without him.


End file.
